Intertwined
by CutewithAcapital-Q
Summary: Ron and Hermione are alone late at night in the Hospital Wing. Fifth year after the Department of Mysteries. Please Read! Over 1100 hits!


WOW over 1100 hits! thats amazing!! You people are AMAZING!!

And A huge THANKS (gett it?! ha ha ah never mind) to Hollygrint101 For Adding this to the Amazing Ron/Hermione Stories You have No idea what It means to me!

This was another Fic. where I thought up a certian movement that I really liked, and wrote a fic around it! If you like my style look at What Happens On the Couch Stays on the Couch!

I kills me to say this but, Harry Potter and the Order Of the Pheonix was not written By Me, I own nothing.

Night. Darkness. The infirmary was silent other then the small and distant hoot of an owl, and the hollow breathes of the only two occupants. A week after returning from the Department of Mysteries, most everyone had been healed and sent out. Harry was the only one to leave conscience, Ginny, Luna and Neville only needed to be treated for minor spell damage and a few scratches. In the same day Professor Umbridge was found near the forest screaming, brought in, and then was forcefully taken from the infirmary, for the sake of not having to put up with the noise.

Ron's welts had not healed completely yet, nor had the memories completely faded from his head.

Hermione was still recovering from the near fatal spell to the chest. She had woken up few times but she was still in no condition to leave.

Ron still lay awake, no thought of sleep in him, the covers held up to his chin. His eyes alternated from left to right and the ceiling above, but they lingered only seconds longer then the other directions when he glanced to the left. In the darkness he could make out a nearly motionless plateau under bed covers, and a bush of curls draped over the pillow. Ron turned on his side and watched the sight.

'Wow, this is weird, hope she doesn't wake up that would be really weird.' His mind whispered, but still he looked. Suddenly in a gasp of breath she stirs. Ron's eyes shut to feign sleep.

"Ron! Ron, wake up!" her anxious voice cracked in the silence.

As part of his act, his eyes blink slowly open, but the act was wasted. Instead of looking at Hermione's frantic face he seemed to be starring her frantic back.

"Ron, wake up you lazy git!" she continued to the empty bed on her left, growing irritation bubbled to the surface of her tone, "Ron!" she said as she chucked a chocolate frog from her bed side table to the bed. Ron could have watched this all night, it was so funny, but he had to stop the madness.

"Hermione what the bloody hell are you doing?" he snapped.

"Oh," she jumped in here bed when she heard him behind her, and turned to see him then said sheepishly, "I guess I've been asleep so often I keep forgetting where you are."

"Actually I am kind of a lazy git." Ron grinned as he admitted, "I moved at lunch and didn't feel like moving back," Hermione threw another chocolate frog at him, but he caught it (with his amazing keeper skills), "thanks!," he laughed and torn the wrapper off, "what did you wake up for?"

"Oh… er well I had a bad dream."

"About what?" he asked interested, "Did McGonagall fail you again?" he said incredulously.

"No, well it was, er," she blushed, as if she forgot what she was going to say or didn't want to say it, Ron didn't think much of it, she laughed nervously, "It well, it seemed so real, and you know what's weird now that I'm up I can't remember it all that well."

"Uh-huh," Ron's voice came out a bit disappointed, and then shuffled to lie down.

"Ron, could you stay up with me," she asked timidly, "Now that I'm up, all that sleeping has caught up with me now I can't go back to bed."

"Sure," Ron successfully stifled his grin in the dark, "come on," he shifted in the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making room for you, I can hardly hear you, or did you not want to talk?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, what I meant was why should I have to move?"

"Well, now look who's the lazy git."

"I'm not lazy," she pressed, "I'm weak."

"You've been asleep for two days! You should be as fresh as a daisy!" Ron countered, "Who says I should get up?"

"I do."

"So, what, I'm taller."

"I'm older."

"You're smaller."

"I'm worse off."

"No way."

"Ron you were incapacitated by a spell then wrestled a brain, you summoned from its tank," Ron self consciously tugged at his sleeves to hide the welt scars, "I was hit with a supposedly lethal spell."

Ron threw his head back in defeat and rolled his eyes as he folded the covers back, and attempted to stand.He pushed himself from the mattress into an awkward stance. He saw Hermione smile, then suddenly his knees gave way and he toppled over the bedside table. Hermione's hand reached for him and grasped it tightly for support. Ron thought for a second she shivered as they touched, he turned the thought away making the excuse that it had nothing but a trick of the senses, as he wobbled violently for balance any how.

Hermione helped him stumble across the way, his feet slipped and slid, beneath him, and gangly limbs flailed about. He looked like a scarecrow trying to walk.

He reached the end of the bed, "Speaking of which, your not allowed to do that anymore," he said quite seriously, "scared me half to death when Harry told me what happened to you." He paused and looked at the empty space, "What is this? Budge up, would you?" Hermione scuttled to the side until there was enough space permitted for both them to be half way off the bed.

"So you saw Harry and the others today?"

"Yeah, _that's_ the real reason I moved. He didn't feel like moving the visitor's chair five stinking feet. So I had to go over there."

"Why didn't he just move the chair? From what I saw in your condition-," Ron stopped her; he did appreciate her worrying over him, but…

"It's not that big a deal," Ron said, "It really isn't as bad as it seems. Like you said I've got a few welts and a head full of bad memories. I still don't know every that happened with out us, but there's something he's not going to tell us about that night, something he can't tell us… I dunno he's just not himself, maybe it will pass."

"What did you talk about?"

"My scars, Umbridge getting sacked, all the free time we're missing out on, you…" he trailed off as his ears glowed, this close to her, he could hind nothing.

"Nothing about what happened at the Ministry?" Hermione searched his face, "Or what Dumbledore's been talking to him about?"

"I told you already, it something he's just not going to tell us yet, the Sirius thing has really got him shook up. There's no way I'm going to open this can of worms. Not while his sanity's hanging by a thread."

"No, he doesn't need that."

"Then of course there's also this feeling, that he's too busy telling Dumbledore everything rather then us," Ron theorized glumly, "that's where he is just about the rest of the time." He noticed Hermione wasn't paying much attention; instead she seemed transfixed on Ron's left arm lying uselessly between them.

"The scars, I've never seen them up close before," she lifted the arm gingerly, to look at the puckered welts. As she inspected it, she held up his bruised arm by his hand. He took in a sharp breath and winced, "What? Does it hurt?" she quickly lowered the arm in alarm, but subconsciously kept a good hold on his hand.

"No, just kind of itches, but Madame Pomfrey doesn't let me scratch them, or they'll never heal, and I did try it once they hurt more."

""Of course they do," She rolled her eyes, and once again they settled into a comfortable silence, and she looked to their hands cupped together. He looked to her profile while she wasn't facing him. Then she switched her gaze.

"What?"

Ron blushed furiously, and turned his head away so fast his neck made an audible crack.

"Nothing, I er, I guess I'm a bit tired."

"Then sleep," she pointed to his unmade bed.

"Hermione are you serious? It's been," he lifted their clasped hands to check his watch, "five minutes. That would be ridiculous that you made me come over here in the first place…" she looked away from him, which gave Ron that special case of guilt she could only put in him, "… especially," he continued, to spare himself the pain, "if you have another bad dream."

She looked back up at him, the corners of her mouth rose in the slightest, "it really was a silly dream come to think of it."

"So you do remember it?" Ron asked puzzled.

"Well, more or less." She said timidly, and her cheeks tinted lightly, "Only small bits really."

"Well what kind of bits?" Ron pushed.

"Er, well it… started like… like I was in a flu system, you know, spinning, in the dark. When it stopped, you and Harry were there out of no where and you said something I didn't quite catch. Then you stumbled after a big paper heart in one direction, and Harry began to follow a dog, a big-"

"Sirius?" Ron interjected.

"-Sandy colored dog, Ron, not everything has to do with him." She snapped, "So, I tried to run after him through the tunnel he and the dog went, but it all disappeared and I was alone in the dark."

"And then you threw a chocolate frog at an empty bed," Ron concluded.

"Shut up," Hermione nudged him with her shoulder.

"But that's it? I leave you guys for a paper heart and Harry chases a dog down a tunnel you can't follow?"

"Well yes," somehow his summary had made her feel a bit worse then before.

"Why were you so scared then?" Ron asked, the genuine concern in his voice took her by surprise, "I mean it sounds like we just abandoned you for stupid crap," he sounded as if he held contempt for his and Harry's dream-selves, "Which would never actually happen, you know?" he reasoned. Then he shrugged, "Some dreams are pointless, I guess." He put on one of Hermione's favorite one sided grins.

Hermione tried to return a smile, but a calming tiredness washed over her.

"I… I think I'll try sleeping again," Her speech faltered under his dazzling gaze. She slid back down a little ways and noticed Ron's puzzlement, "You can stay. I don't mind the space, you'd probably break something getting back to your bed. The only thing I'm worried about is what Madame Pomfrey will do to you."

"She can yell at me in the morning…" Ron mumbled, "Besides, what if you do have that McGonagall dream and start throwing candy at the bed across from you!" he grinned again, and she tried to only smirk, but couldn't hold her smile back. Their friendly grins melted to a subtle gazing to one another.

"Night, Ron," she broke the tension happily, and turned away from him, "And thank you."

"For What?" He asked confused. When his only answer was a deep exhale of breath, Ron leaned down carefully, and kissed her just above the brow.

Her eyes fluttered open at his touch. Tentatively, she turned her head over her shoulder.

As if time stopped for five seconds, they looked to each other, with wordless understanding and pleasantly terrifying realization. The two stretched nearer together. They were close enough for Hermione to count the freckles on his nose. Their eyes closed and with an inch more they kissed.

She turned the rest of her body onto his, and took Ron's shoulder with her empty hand; he framed her cheek with his.

Their connected hands clumsily laced fingers, so they were no more then a tangled mess of artistic beauty forever intertwined.

**_The End_**

A/N: I think this is my favorite piece, what do you think? Tell Me Now! Better yet, compare! Go to my Page and read my other stuff!! ;-))


End file.
